An Apple A Day
by samsamtastic
Summary: A collection of drabbles and one-shots cataloging the evolution of the relationship between Kurt and Blaine. Most chapters can be read as stand-alone fics, but all fit within the same universe of events. Slash, possible smut in the future.
1. Study Break

Blaine doesn't notice at first when Kurt falls asleep in the middle of their cram session for the big econ final. He figures that it must have been a while ago because when Kurt's head falls sideways onto Blaine's shoulder, the sleeping boy doesn't even stir. Blaine rolls his eyes and flips the textbook balanced across their laps shut. He pulls out his cell and exchanges a few texts with Wes that they're both going to be late for movie night (_no it doesn't mean that I finally asked him out_ and _no we are not having an intense make-out session in the senior commons _and _NO YOU CANNOT WATCH, YOU PERVERT! I THOUGHT YOU WERE STRAIGHT_) before shifting slightly so Kurt's neck is not at such a hideous angle.

Blaine supposes he could re-open the text book to pretend that he was still working instead of soaking in the feeling of Kurt pressed into his side. Instead he carefully moves his arm around Kurt's shoulders and tugs him even closer. Blaine presses his nose into Kurt's hair, because he can't help himself, and takes in the faint smell of pomegranates that he has come to recognize from the ever more frequent hugs he can manage from the still skittish boy. So what if he misses a few extra questions on the test? Who would honestly choose studying over this? Blaine smiles to himself, knowing that nobody else gets the opportunity to have to make that decision. He leans his head back against the couch and closes his eyes.


	2. Wake Up Call

"Blaine, man, your phone is ringing like crazy," Wes says as he walks up to where Blaine is sitting with David and Nick. Blaine looks up at him blankly for a moment, confused. They all agreed to leave their cell phones with their coats to prevent any stupid, regrettable communications with the outside world amidst the frenzy of the New Year's party. "I was just calling my mom to check in on my grandma and it rang like four times. You might want to check what's up."

"Are you sure it's mine?" Blaine asks, pretty sure he had put it on silent before even walking into the house.

"Do you know of anybody else here who would have Gaga as a ringtone?" Wes laughs, slinging an arm around David's neck as he sat down to cover his theft of several pretzels from the boys plate. Blaine takes in the room full of boys surrounding the various carted in Tvs and game consoles and has to agree. Even Thad, who demands they play Bad Romance at least twice at every party, has never put the song on his phone. Blaine settles back into his seat on the couch for a moment, deciding to check on it after Jeff and Lyle finish their Mortal Kombat match, when it hits him.

There is only one person in his phone with Lady Gaga set as their ringtone: Kurt. Oh god, what if something happened and Blaine has been playing Wii with his friends and making fun of the bad musical performances on the countdown? His stomach twists painfully. Blaine flat out runs to the guest room and tears the place apart to find his coat in the pile. He struggles with the lock on his phone as it starts to ring in his hands.

"Kurt? What's wrong? Are you okay? Do you need me to come to Lima?" He spits out all in one breath. There is a giggle on the other end of the line and a lot of shushing before Kurt actually speaks.

"I'm totally fine, Blaine, I prim-promi- I swear," Blaine pulls the phone away from his ear and looks at it for a moment, bewildered, before holding it back up.

"Kurt, are you drunk?" he asks slowly.

"Maybe a bit, yeah," Kurt laughs, and then hiccups - actually hiccups! Before going on. "Quinn's mom got us some champagne," it figures that Kurt can wrap his tongue around 'champagne' but not 'promise' when drunk. "But Puck brought beer and this lovely coconut stuff that 'Cedes used to make me a few drinks."

"A few? How many have you had?"

"Ummm, here."

"Kurt?" There is a bit of static and people laughing in the background as the phone is passed around.

"Kurt's had a few Lava Flows and two glasses of bubbly. He's feeling pretty good about himself," A guy's voice says, harsh and menacing like Blaine insulted him.

"Um, okay. Who're you then?"

"I'm Puck. Kurt wants to talk to you again," he says and there is a bit more static.

"Blaine! Oh, Blaine, I love these smoothies. They're healthy be-because M'cedes put real flut-fruit in it!" Kurt laughs, voice muffled and thick by his intoxicated tongue.

"Kurt, are you okay there? You weren't pressured into drinking or anything?" Blaine has never heard Kurt mention anything about he or his friends being partiers before, has never even considered alcohol as a thing to even possibly associate with Kurt Hummel.

"No, no, course not!" Kurt slurs happily. "S'prised me with the party to help me forget."

"For get what? Is this about _him_? Has he bothered you at home?"

"K'fsky won't come near me with Finn and Puck around. Puck's super nice, did I tell you that Blaine? He said he would risk juvie again if I needed him to punch you," Kurt's voice is getting heavier, sleepier with each word. Blaine desperately hopes that he is sitting down if he is going to start passing out before the last comment processes though his head.

"Punch me? What - why?"

"Told him about you so nice to me all the time, asking me to sing with you, but then getting all we-wi-odd when people are around," Kurt is quiet after that and Blaine thinks that he has fallen asleep for a moment until he starts talking again. "Told him that I really like you, but you're just too much of a gently-gen- nice guy to kiss me when I up for it, totally, really up for it," and there is a light snore, barely a snuffle, on the other end of the line and Blaine knows Kurt actually has fallen asleep this time. He stares straight ahead at the wall, in shock, with his phone still pressed to his ear. He jumps when somebody starts talking to him again.

"Look white boy, I know you think you're doing a good thing for Kurt, trying to be his best friend at Dalton, or whatever, but it's really, really messing with his head. So either stop being so damn hot and cold to him or tell him to shove off, okay?" Mercedes sounds furious, which throws Blaine even further for a loop. She has never been anything but sweet the handful of times he's been around her in person. He figures she must have had a drink or two herself to loosen her tongue.

"I'm not…" he tries feebly, but he knows that he is. God, he fucking knows that he is. When it's just the two of them, doing whatever, everything, he holds Kurt's hand and tells stupid Star Trek related jokes, praises Kurt for being wonderful and unique. But the moment they're even within the eye line of another Warbler, he stays at least six inches away at all times and tells Kurt that he _gets _to fit in. As if Kurt Hummel were able to be just like everybody else, with his perfectly coiffed hair, perfectly pale skin, perfectly mesmerizing eyes, perfectly dry wit, perfectly constructed boundaries. Blaine scoffs at his own idiocy.

"I am, you're right," he says in response to Mercedes' silence. "I just don't… want to hurt him. I'll stop being so - he deserves better."

"Damn straight he does. But he wants you, so clean up your act or I'll have to come over there and unleash a little Jones power on your skinny ass, got it?" Blaine hums in agreement and the line goes dead.

"Everything okay?" Wes asks, hovering in the doorway, David just behind him out in the hall. "You ran out of there like you were on fire."

"Yeah, just… Have I been an ass to Kurt?"

"What?"

"I don't know! He's with his friends, drunk, because he wants to forget about me, whatever I've done to him!"

"Look, Blaine, man," Wes starts, gesturing to David to continue from there.

"We tried to keep out of it, let you do your own thing with Kurt, but yeah, you've been a bit stupid," David sighs, pushing at Blaine's shoulder until he sits down on the bed. Blaine blinks as David and Wes flank him.

"Look, we know you brought him to Dalton to protect him, wanted give him your sage guidance," Wes says gently. "But you're holding him back."

"Holding him back?" Blaine scoffs "He's doing great!"

"Yeah, when you're around him," David says. "But when he's on his own, he jumps at every loud noise, sits by himself, doesn't pay attention in class. Don't even get me started on his place in the Warblers."

"Hey, he legitimately earned that! You're on the senior board, you're the ones that-"

"He's one of the greatest singers I've ever heard," David interrupts. "But he doesn't belong in the background. You saw his face that very first day when he learned how we do things, he doesn't know how to blend. He's never had to, even when he was in danger."

"Name some of Kurt's friends," says Wes.

"Mercedes, Tina, Finn, Mike," Blaine lists and it instantly hits him. He cannot think of a single person Kurt is friends with at Dalton. Sure, he had only been there a month before winter break started, but that is plenty of time to eat least begin forming bonds. "Shit."

"You laid your claim too thickly," Wes explains. "He feels safe when you're around, which I can't say is a bad thing, judging by the way you look at him," Blaine elbows him good naturedly in the ribs. "But now he feels safe only when you're around. For Dalton to be the sanctuary you want it to be for him, he needs other people's support."

"Nick and Jeff are going shopping the day after tomorrow," David says, standing up and brushing imaginary lint off of his jeans. "They'll invite Kurt. Jeff is in Bio with him and you know what happened to his brother. Other people can help him, too, you know. Don't put it all on yourself."

"But… I want to," Blaine says softly. Because he does, he want's to be Kurt's everything. He's known him for such an incredibly short period of time and he has never felt so strongly about anyone before. It's a little terrifying but he could not walk away from this _thing _he's starting with Kurt if he tried.

"That's sweet, that you do, but let other people try it for a while. This way," Wes physically pull's Blaine to his feet and winks, "you can get _him _all up on yourself." Blaine groans at the terrible joke, but pulls his best friends into a hug.

"How'd you two get so smart?" He asks, pulling back.

"We are a year older than you," Wes says, mock serious expression ruined by his teasing tone.

"And we read the handbook," David adds.

"What handbook?" Blaine laughs.

"The Blaine Warrington Handbook. Didn't you know you come with one? Our favorite chapter is the part about how you can sometimes be a bit of a self-sacrificing idiot. Gave lots of tips on how to show you how oblivious you've been," David jokes.

"Come on, you still owe me a round of Mario Kart. You can call him in the morning, after he's sobered up," Wes grins and pulls Blaine out into the hall. The music has started back in the party room, meaning Tyler finally showed up with Call of Duty and the shooting melee had begun on the main TV. Blaine takes the controller when it's shoved into his hand as he walks back into the room and smiles. Next year is beginning to look better already.

o0o0o

Blaine wakes up the next afternoon, face plastered painfully to the leather seat of the couch. He peels himself off, sitting up and patting himself to find his phone.

_Did I talk to you last night?_

_Blaine? Did I say something weird?_

_Sorry._

The three messages in his inbox are each twenty minutes apart, the last one time stamped a full hour and a half ago. Blaine fumbles to hit the call button as he picks his way around his sleeping friends into the hallway.

"Blaine?" Kurt answers, clearly in a world of pain.

"Hey, Kurt. Sorry I just woke up," Blaine yawns, rubbing the crust from the corners of his eyes.

"I know I called you last night, my phone shows - what did I say?" The confusion in his tone sounds sincere. He really doesn't know what he said, isn't just playing dumb to recant his confession. Blaine lets out a sigh of relief.

"Nothing really, you, um, talked a lot about how much you liked smoothies, mud slides?"

"Lava flows, ugh, don't remind me."

"That's about it," Blaine lies through his teeth because now that he understands what he has been doing to Kurt, he has to take a step back. He wants to make sure that Kurt's affections for him aren't because he has been the only one around. So as much as is going to hurt, Blaine will wait on the sidelines and see what Kurt does when the other boys start paying attention to him. So he just laughs when Kurt describes the horrible taste in his mouth that he woke up to and hangs up first so that the boy can sleep off his hangover. He writes out Kurt's number on a post it and sticks it to Jeff's forehead. He goes home and watches his favorite Disney movies, because if Blaine has to pine for Kurt while he waits to see if the boy really does like him in _that way _then damn it, he might as well do it right.


	3. Home for the Holidays

Kurt, miraculously, packs lightly for the two week break. Most of his clothes are still at home in his room, after all, but he is able to pare everything down to one medium duffle bag. Even his dad is surprised and looks around the room for more luggage when he sees just the one on Kurt's bed next to Pavarotti's cage.

"Are you sure that's all you're bringing?" Burt asks, closing the hatch over the bed of his trunk with a thud. "You've got time to go pack a few more things."

"Don't tempt fate, Dad. I don't plan on doing much more than sitting in my room with Mercedes and watching movies all break anyway, so just start the car before I change my mind," Kurt says, climbing into the passenger seat. His dad's laughter is obviously forced, but Kurt won't sugar coat it; he doesn't have anything else to do, now that he's out of Glee and in with the Warblers. More than likely his old friends will see him as the enemy now. Kurt puts in the CD he made for the ride - a few of his less flamboyant favorites mixed with his dad's usual classic rock - and leans his head against the window and closes his eyes. He hopes his dad chalks his tiredness up to it being nine in the morning and not that he barely slept the night before.

He had been finishing a last minute online quiz on his laptop in the library when Blaine sat down next to him. Right next to him, on the same chair. He had quickly typed in the answers to Kurt's quiz and closed the screen, demanding Kurt really, really stop studying this time and come watch a movie with him. And Kurt had gone along, of course. Only, twenty minutes into Oceans Eleven (Blaine's choice), Wes and David came back to the dorm. Blaine had instantly pulled his hand from where it was laying on Kurt's arm and moved to make room for them. Kurt only stayed for another ten minutes before claiming he still had packing to do. Wes and David protested and asked him to stay, but Blaine had been obnoxiously silent. So Kurt left.

Kurt starts awake when the car stops in the driveway of their house. He doesn't remember falling asleep, but he also doesn't remember passing the giant cow sculpture they always drive past, so he must have dozed off pretty fast. Kurt smiles at his dad as he pulls the door open for him and holds out his duffle bag.

"Thanks, for coming to get me, Dad," he says, hugging him in the middle of the front walk way.

"Of course," Burt says, obviously confused, but returns the embrace tightly.

"You started the hugs without me?" A warm voice calls from the porch. Kurt looks over his dad's shoulder to see Carole leaning against the door frame. Their reunion dissolves quickly into a group effort to keep Kurt from breathing - even Finn comes to add his super-teen sized mass to the party. They let him go only to shuffle him inside out of the cold.

"You guys, I have to go unpack!" He exclaims when Carole and his dad try to go for another round. He checks his phone for the first time since leaving Dalton once he is safely alone in his room and is glad he waited. Kurt sighs and sinks down onto his bed.

_Blaine 9:27 - Where are you?_

_Blaine 9:32 - I know you're not this heavy of a sleeper, open up!_

_Blaine 9:33 - Kurt, what are you doing?_

Kurt wants to ignore them. Blaine ditched him the night before, why should he respond? But of course, Kurt cannot leave things they way they are, cannot stay mad at his only true friend at Dalton - feelings aside - so he answers.

_You 10:56 - I'm home._

_Blaine 10:57 - I thought you weren't leaving till this afternoon._

_You 10:59 - Asked my dad to come get me early_

_Blaine 10:59 - Why?_

_You 11:03 - I just wanted to be home._

_Blaine 11:08 - you should have told me last night!_

_You 11:09 - I called him after I left your room._

Kurt has completely unpacked his bag by the time his phone chimes again and it takes him a good five minutes to bring himself to pick it back up.

_Blaine 11:38 - Sorry W & D ruined our movie night._

Kurt thinks about replying and telling Blaine exactly who ruined their movie night, but instead just types out a frowning face and decides it can secretly mean that.

_Blaine 11:43 - I didn't get to give you your Christmas present though!_

_You 11:43 - Keep it_

Kurt looks at his fingers in surprise, not even realizing he had typed out the vicious thought that passed through his mind. It would only be another reminder for him that whatever was going on Blaine's head was still a complicated, confusing mess. He had told Blaine that he didn't have to buy anything, despite the fact that Kurt currently had a buckeyes scarf being shipped to Blaine's mailbox at school.

_You 10:54 - Till we come back, I mean._

He puts his phone resolutely screen down on his bed and goes upstairs to see if Carole needs any help with getting lunch ready. Kurt lets himself get wrapped up in being home, dodges Mercedes' questions when she calls on the house phone after obviously trying his cell a few times, and watches some of The Game with his dad before losing enthusiasm in the pretense and helping Carole wrap gifts. He doesn't check his cell again until after dinner and is glad he did. Nestled between the multiple texts from Mercedes telling him to answer his phone in various, colorfully worded ways, there is one more message from Blaine:

_2:58 - Okay. Miss you._

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

o0o0o

"Bye dad! Bye Carole! Happy new year!" Kurt dutifully waves with Finn to the car as it drives down the road. They were going to a hotel in Columbus for the night to - nope, no, Kurt promised himself he wouldn't even go down that path. He thinks resolutely of puppies and cashmere scarves as he runs back downstairs to grab his overnight bag. Mercedes has convinced him to come with her to Quinn's house for the New Directions party, despite his initially turning down Quinn when she asked him to come.

"Ready Kurt?" Finn asks, pulling on his atrocious looking hunter's cap. Kurt gestures to the bag on his shoulder in reply, earning rolled eyes and a laugh from his step-brother. They take Finn's but Finn lets Kurt choose the music, and this is how they end up rolling to a stop in front of Quinn's house blaring the title song from _Hair_. Quinn and Sam meet them at the front door and laugh off Kurt's joke about Ken and Barbie playing Dream House by each hugging him.

"Come on, Hummel, we're all in the basement waiting for you," Sam says. He slings an arm around Kurt's shoulders and steers him through a door and down some stairs.

"You guys, what the hell-"

But Kurt's comment is cut off as the lights flick on. He has just a moment to take in the massive banner hanging on the far wall bearing the sentence _We missed you Kurt!_ before the room explodes with an exclamation of "SURPRISE!" literally rocks him backwards a step. Ah, now the arm around his shoulder makes more sense.

"You guys shouldn't have done this," Kurt scolds them as he hugs everybody in turn and is shocked to find Rachel and Santana acting civilly in the same room as eachother. They manage to convince him to ruin his hair and wear a ridiculous party hat. They are all gathered around the couches and piles of pillows to play Scene It when Kurt notices Puck is missing. He tries not to feel badly about it, but he couldn't help but think maybe they were… acquaintances by the end there, when Puck was offering to go back to juvie just to teach Karofsky a lesson.

"Does somebody hear ringing?" Brittany asks a few rounds in. Everybody looks at her, concerned.

"Did you get too close to the speakers again, Brit?" Santana asks, serious.

"No, I hear it too," Kurt says, straining, but he does hear the faint chiming.

"Shit! Puck!" Fin exclaims and runs from the room, thundering up the stairs. He returns a few minutes later, the bags in his hands clinking ominously and with one Noah Puckerman trailing behind with a similar bag. Kurt stands up nervously, wringing his hands.

"Didn't think I was going to make it?" Puck laughs, raising his arm as he walks over. For a brief moment, Kurt is ready to flinch, but the hand only pulls him by the sleeve into a bear hug that lifts him off his feet. "Wouldn't miss out on an opportunity to see my favorite homo!"

"Um," Kurt swallows. The room is awkwardly silent. Somebody coughs.

"Bro code, dudes, lighten up. Every badass has a gay guy friend that they champion. Everybody knows that. You're my boy, Kurt," Puck explains, patting Kurt on the cheek like they're in a gangster movie before going back to help Finn unload the bags. As bottle upon bottle of alcohol appears, Kurt leans towards Tina to double check what has just happened.

"Did Puck just call me his favorite homo?"

"I think so."

"And his friend? That he's my champion?"

"I'm pretty sure that's what he said."

"What have you guys done to him since I left?" Kurt laughs. The room seems heave a collective sigh and everybody goes back to the game. At first, Kurt refrains from taking any of the drinks offered, but then Quinn produces a bottle of champagne and says its _tradition_ to start watching the countdown with a toast. And it's expensive. So he takes a glass. And another. And then Mercedes is promising that he'll really love these drinks her aunt made last summer, so he tries one and it's just like a smoothie, but better.

"So, Kurt, tell us about your fancy new school," Puck says as they are all sitting around and watching the hosts on TV bicker back and forth from the Pacific to the Atlantic. Kurt doesn't know how he ended up next to Puck, but he looks up at him curiously.

"What do you want to know about it?" He asks.

"You better be schooling those boarding school weirdos, especially in Glee club. Have you clawed your way to a solo yet?" Puck apparently doesn't see Mercedes motioning frantically for him to stop talking. Kurt does and gives her an appreciative shrug. She knows Kurt's experience with the Warblers has not been exactly what he imagined.

"They're definitely… different," Kurt compromises, trying not to insult his new teammates or his old ones. Whatever New Directions lacked in organization and direction, the Warblers had it in spades but they also lacked the _fun_ that Kurt loved, the challenge of Mr. Schu's stupid assignments. "They're run by three seniors, a council, instead of a teacher. And we don't get to make any suggestions, basically." Oh, he probably shouldn't have said that last part out loud. That is a bit mean.

"None?" Rachel gasps. Kurk giggles. She would make a terrible warbler.

"At all. I tried to suggest Duran Duran just as a future asterisk of reference and I was squashed so fast you would have thought I told them to sing Bieber."

"But Duran Duran would be perfect for their vocal style and delightful harmonies!"

"I know! That's what I told Blaine but he says it's just not how things are done."

"Who's Blaine?" Santana jeers suggestively. Kurt groans.

"You need more booze by the sound of that," Puck mandates and another drink, _Lava Flows_ they're called, is pushed into his hands. Kurt takes a sip. This one is stronger than the last. So he takes another sip and another. And then he is telling them everything. From how he felt on that first day when Blaine grabbed his hand and then obviously sang directly to him in front of everybody all the way up until the stupid _Miss You_ text the day Kurt got back into town.

After that, things start to get really nice and warm. Kurt takes off his sweater and sits between Mercedes and Puck in his plain white undershirt - which is the most dressed down anybody but Mercedes has ever seen him look - as the stupid count down show keeps looking at a ball that won't be moving for another two hours. At some point the thinks he is on the phone, but when he looks down at his hand, his cell is missing from the equation, so he can't have been the one talking. He jerks awake twenty minutes before the ball is set to touch down a little more coherent than before. Kurt sets his glass down on a table and stumbles to sit next to Rachel on the floor.

"Rachel, you look very pretty tonight," Kurt says and he is pretty sure he means it. Her hair has been curled and her sweater has only one small embroidered firework on it. He smiles at her and takes her hand when the count down starts because he knows Finn will be kissing Santana, Brittany has Artie now, Mike and Tina and then Sam and Quinn will pair off, and Kurt gets the distinct impression that maybe Puck might want to plant one on Mercedes. And because she has two gay dads, so she should get it. And she seems to because she doesn't bat an eye when Kurt kisses her soundly on the cheek at the stroke of midnight, only raises her hand to turn his face to return the favor.

They all laugh together about old stories and share their resolutions for another hour before everybody starts to drift off. Kurt manages to secure one half of a loveseat for himself and thinks idly that maybe he should have had more cheese puffs throughout the night before falling asleep.

o0o0o

Kurt cracks open an eye and then moans in pain. Those immediately around him stir and let out similar noises until the least afflicted of them fumbles with the complicated light switch on the wall and the room is plunged into semidarkness.

Kurt pulls out his phone and blinks rapidly at the low-lit screen until his pupils stop trying to contract to the size of pinpricks. A ten minute call to Blaine is still displayed on the screen. A ten minute drunk dial to Blaine is still displayed on the screen. Kurt panics. He scrolls through his other dialed calls, terrified he might have called his dad, but the result is much, much worse. He called Blaine _seventeen_ times. Only the last once was answered, thank goodness. But he still called nearly twenty times. Kurt types out a hesitant text and waits. Nothing. His friends snuffle in their sleep and no reply comes. He caves and sends another, asking what he said, because it's obvious that they talked, for some time, it seems. But Kurt can't remember any of it. Everything before and after the moment he recalls thinking he had been on the phone is mostly clear, but… the second drink he had was stronger than the first. He sends off a single word apology before falling back into the soft cushions of the couch and going back to sleep.

His phone wake up a while later, lighting up right next to his face. He looks at it before realizing that it is ringing and answers "Blaine?" Kurt is shocked at how disgusting his voice sounds. He is sure if he tries to move, he will probably feel that disgusting as well. So he stays motionless.

"Hey, Kurt. Sorry I just woke up," Blaine says through an obvious yawn. Kurt supposes that he could make small talk, say he did as well, complain about he feels, but he can barely keep the phone to his ear much less devise a cunning conversation plan. He cuts to the chase.

"I know I called you last night, my phone shows - what did I say?" And he really, really wishes that he were lying to cover up for a few slurred comments. But he absolutely has no idea what their conversation entailed.

"Nothing really, you, um, talked a lot about how much you liked smoothies, mud slides?"

"Lava flows, ugh, don't remind me," Kurt moans. His stomach rolls at the thought.

"That's about it," Blaine says cheerfully. Kurt wants to stab him through the phone for being so happy. Instead he tells him how his mouth tastes like a bad polyester sweater and about how he wants to just die. Blaine laughs and tells him to go back to sleep and get rid of his hangover and Kurt agrees only when Blaine promises to never let him drink ever again. He drops the phone when the call ends and lets out a high pitched whine of agony. Mercedes and Sam shush him, which is all the encouragement he needs to fall back to sleep for three more hours.

When Kurt wakes up, his stomach doesn't threaten mutiny when he moves and he hesitantly tries a slice of toast and orange juice for dinner. He moves on to a strip of bacon, as terrible as it is for you, because he knows the protein will help him metabolize the remaining alcohol faster. Then he takes his turn in one of the showers in the house and there are pancakes waiting when he is done - in the shape of Mickey Mouse, no less - courtesy of Sam.

"Quinn, you're lucky you grabbed him, or I would have corrupted him. This is amazing," Kurt stuffs another bite of perfectly fluffy pancake into his mouth. Everybody laughs. Everybody here understands his humor. He smiles, more for himself than anything, because even if Dalton is the sanctuary he ran to, this will always be his home.


	4. Thanks To Applesauce

Blaine's room looks pretty much like every other Daltoner's dorm. Pennants on the wall for his favorite sports teams, dirty socks tucked into every corner instead of the hamper, pizza boxes and soda cans from when the cafeteria food just wouldn't cut it stacked precariously. The one thing that makes him stand out from the rest - besides the Cher poster and obsessively complete collection of Disney movies - is his obnoxiously large mini-fridge. Kurt thinks that the 'mini' should be completely left out of the description because the thing is three feet tall and has a _freezer_.

"Blaine, can I stick this in your fridge?" Kurt asks, holding his sub sandwich in front of him as he enters the room. Blaine doesn't look up from his position of laying face down on his bed but gives a half grunt, half moan that Kurt decides to take as an affirmative. The Warblers finally took his suggestions - in their round about we-have-to-wait-five-weeks-after-you-say-it-for-a-senior-to-remember-and-present-it-as-one-of-his-own-ideas way - about needing a bit more panache and they finally have choreography to practice that is more advanced than _step-step-sway-step-step-turn _to the beat of the song. It's no problem for Kurt who still stays in peak Cheerios condition in constant fear of Sue Sylvester, but everybody else seems to have fallen into a half-dead stupor of pain.

Kurt opens the fridge and nearly drops his sandwich. What makes Blaine's appliance so unique is not actually it's dimensions - Kurt knows that a few of the senior football players have smuggled in full size fridges - but rather the contents. He is looking at what must be five dozen little snack-pack size apple sauce cups, neatly stacked in columns that take up the entire first shelf.

"Are you on some weird diet?" Kurt asks warily. He remembers once hearing Sam talk about how he had gone on a diet consisting of nothing but home-made fruit juice and Wonder bread.

"No, why?" Blaine replies, voice still muffled by his bedding.

"Why do you have so much applesauce?"

"I like applesauce, is that a crime?"

"You like applesauce this much?" Kurt asks, skeptical.

"Yeah, since I was a little kid," Blaine is finally sitting up, rolling his shoulders to relieve tension Kurt knows is building there. You don't do the sort of elaborate flexibility exercises that they had gone through and go away feeling happy the first few times. "It's sort of my thing, I guess. Last year Wes bought me a seven pound jar for my birthday, those kinds you get from bulk stores."

"That seems unhealthy," Kurt says, wrinkling his nose.

"I don't know, I've had one with lunch every day since kindergarten and nothing seems wrong with me."

"It obviously stunted your growth."

"You're less than an inch taller than me!"

"And still growing. You're out of time to grow, old man."

"Excuse me? I'm eleven months older than you, that's it!"

"Like I said, old man."

o0o0o

"Where are you going?" Kurt asked, pausing Roman Holiday with a huff as Blaine starts to get up from where they're (not)cuddling on Kurt's bed..

"I'm gonna run and get an-"

"There's applesauce in the fridge."

"What?" Blaine stares at Kurt until Kurt's ears positively burn from embarrassment and he ducks his head to stare interestedly at his feet hanging off the edge of the bed.

"You went up to your room like three times last week while hanging out in here for some applesauce so I bought some. It's the kind you like, I double checked with Wes before…" Kurt trails off, wringing his hands nervously.

"You bought me applesauce?"

"Yeah?"

"It's kind of like we're cohabitating then, isn't it?" Blaine asks lightly, as if cohabitating was the sort of thing he talked about every day. "If you're doing grocery shopping for me and keeping things for me here."

"Um, I - what?"

"I even have a few pairs of socks in your sock drawer."

"That's because you left there here and I washed them on accident."

"But they're still here. We're cohabitating. Don't you think we should be boyfriends before we cohabitate?"

"WHAT?" Kurt is very aware that his voice breaks in a very unattractive way over the word but seriously, he has no idea how buying Blaine applesauce led to the only conversation he has wanted to have with the boy since they sang "Baby It's Cold Outside" over a month ago.

"You don't think we should be boyfriends?"

"Yes- I mean, um, are you, ah, asking?" Kurt stutters through the words. Oh god, what if he really wasn't asking and Kurt was going to look like a total loser.

"Yeah, I am. Kurt, I've been wanting to for ages but I wasn't sure if you wanted-"

"You're an idiot!" Kurt punches Blaine none too kindly in the arm. "Of course I wanted. I couldn't have made it more obvious!"

"But you - I mean, how was I supposed to know? Even when I took a step back to let you bloom, or whatever, you never acted any differently with me. I thought it was just how you were, but then sometimes you would get embarrassed when others would do the same sort of things…" Blaine trails off when Kurt's exasperated expression finally makes sense and sinks in. "Oh." And Kurt cannot take it any longer because he has been waiting for months for this very moment, drove to seven different stores for damn applesauce, and so finally, finally takes some of the advice he's been given and turns his head to press his lips gently to Blaine's. It is nothing like kissing Brittany had been, _nothing_, and Kurt panics after a moment and pulls back, eyes wide.

"Was that okay?" He asks, worried.

"Fuck, yes," Blaine hisses through his teeth. Kurt blinks at him in surprise. He has heard Blaine swear once before, when he got whacked in the nose with a cupboard door because Wes had not been paying attention, and even then all he had said was 'damn'. And then Blaine is moving and it's Kurt's turn to say "Oh" as his hips are straddled and his lips are covered. Before Kurt's brain completely short circuits, he thinks two things. Firstly, he thinks that of course it is nothing like kissing Brittany because she was a girl and now he is kissing Blaine, who is _perfect_. The second thing he thinks is that they were supposed to finish the movie because - Kurt cannot remember why for in that moment Blaine's tongue is introduced to Kurt's and _who the hell cares about Audrey Hepburn anyway_?


	5. Happy Valentines Day!

Kurt finishes the last loop of his hand made bow two with a soft whoop of triumph. It has already come undone three times on him because the ribbon he bought (red with tiny white hearts) has an extra glossy satin finish that he didn't expect. He examines his handiwork with pride and tapes it gingerly to the lid of the mason jar. He and Blaine agreed to exchange only small gifts for Valentines Day. They have been dating exactly two weeks and neither of them feels ready to make any declarations (aloud) yet.

"Kurt?" Blaine calls through the door instead of knocking.

"Yeah, I'm ready!" he calls, standing up and holding the jar behind his back. Blaine opens the door, a hand behind his back as well. Kurt smiles shyly. He is sure Blaine is going to like his gift, _pretty sure_, but doubt loves to just creep up on him and it worms its way into the pit of his stomach.

"So go on the count of three?" asks Blaine, the waver of his voice betraying that he is feeling nerves as well. Kurt breathes out a sigh of relief and nods.

"Three…two…one!" Kurt holds up the jar, eyes closed. There is a beat of silence and he opens his eyes.

"You got me applesauce?" Blaine asks, not sounding disappointed but… definitely not overjoyed. Kurt blushes and shakes his head.

"I made you applesauce. I know I just bought you some I mean that's why we're- but it was a recipe of my mom's. It know you usually get the original kind and this has some cinnamon in it, and she always added a dash of nutmeg even though it was never written on the card-"

"Kurt."

"Sorry."

"Its brilliant," Blaine is smiling brilliantly, all traces of the confusion from moments before gone. He kisses Kurt softly. "Thank you, for sharing this bit of your mother with me." Kurt begins to protest, to brush off the praise, but it's a _thing_ that they're working on. Kurt is learning to actually accept compliments without trying to put himself down first and Blaine is trying to be a little less obtuse about… everything.

"You're welcome."

"Now for your gift," Blaine says with a grin. Kurt takes the little box and flips the lid off with his thumb. Inside it there is a little silver heart, no bigger than a dime, with "B+K" etched into the surface. It shows the telltale signs of being a beginner's jewelry class project and Kurt loves it more than the Tiffany necklace he wanted for Christmas - and did not get.

"It's beautiful," he breathes, pulling it out of the cotton padding until the long silver chain is loose.

"Flip it over." Kurt does and nearly bursts out laughing. An upside down apple is etched on the other side.

"Apple sauce too hard for you to draw?"

"You got me. All my sketches just looked like a blob with little speckles," laughs Blaine. He sets his jar down on Kurt's desk and takes the necklace from him. "And it's not upside down."

"Are you sure?" Kurt asks as Blaine fastens it around his neck in an ultra cheesy cliché.

"It's defying gravity. You told me that you threw that competition to save your dad; this is to remind you that you never have to listen to them ever again. You can defy all the laws of physics that you would like," says Blaine as he spins Kurt back around to face him.

"I-" Kurt stops. Saying those words to Mr. Schue when he was in the too-far-gone stages of a schoolboy crush is one thing. Back then, it meant that he was utterly infatuated with Blaine. Now… now Blaine is finally his and it is a whole new ball game. Does he love him? Maybe. Possibly. For sure one day he will, but right now, Kurt is just glad to be working his way through the first awkward stages of properly getting to know him. "I think you're wonderful."

Kurt leans in and kisses him, trying to remember how Blaine did that _thing _with his tongue that first night they kissed. The sharp intake of breath and half moan he receives for his efforts before Blaine deepens the kiss tell him that he did it right. He pulls Blaine towards his bed and breaks away to sit down.

"We're still watching Lion King, right?" Kurt asks, still a little breathless, eyes flicking to where the blue stopped DVD screen is showing on his TV. He doesn't want to stop but if Blaine keeps rubbing his thumb over his hipbone things are going to get _awkward_. Blaine gives him a small smile and pecks a kiss on Kurt's lips one last time.

"I'd never miss out a chance to sing Hakuna Matata without Wes trying to steal my Pumba part," he laughs and sits down beside him, scooting back until he hits the wall. Kurt rolls his eyes and grabs the remote off the nightstand to press play. Blaine pulls him into his side and they watch the movie that way, touching from toe to shoulder, fingers twined together, and singing like nobody can hear - even though they really, really can, because the walls of the dorms are like onion skin.

They put in RENT after that, to reminisce about the time they saw it on stage together when Adam Pascal and Anthony Rapp were in the touring company, and Blaine puts his lips to Kurt's temple the very moment Angel starts to get sick and just keeps them there until Kurt's sobs quiet down. Blaine demands they watch Beauty and the Beast next and sings softly because it is after hours until Kurt falls asleep on his shoulder. And when Kurt wakes up a few hours later, properly lying down, still in Blaine's arms, he just curls in closer and goes back to bed.


	6. That Day At Macys

**A/N: **Thank you to everybody who put this story on alert. 22 of you and this has been up only a little over two days, if that! Just note, not all chapters are being posted in order of the time line of the verse, as evidenced by this one. When you get an email update, PLEASE! pay attention to the title of the chapter, not just the number. The email that went out for this update says that this is chapter six, when it is actually the fifth. So double check that and then make sure it's the same one in the drop down list =) Thank you all so much for reading and adding me to your alerts and favorites, it means so much!

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Kurt is critically inspecting his appearance when somebody knocks at the door. He checks his watch and furrows his brow. Blaine should have left twenty minutes ago to meet with his mother. And of course it has to be Blaine because nobody else knocks that cheerfully. Four short, sharp staccato wraps of his knuckles against the wood is Blaine's signature. Insistent enough to get your attention but not long enough to be bothersome. Kurt opens the door and opens his mouth to ask if his mother is going to skin him or boil him alive for being that late, but Blaine interrupts.

"Hey, what are you doing this afternoon?" He asks, all teeth and no smile. It's a predatory expression, at best, and something straight from Kurt's dreams at worst. He may have those two mixed around but he cannot find the fortitude to care.

"I'm going to-"

"Because my mom cancelled lunch. Something about a secret sale at Macy's in Columbus," Blaine pushes into the room, hooking his arm around Kurt's waist and pushing the door shut as an afterthought. Kurt was going to say that all he had planned was deciding on ways to incorporate the new scarf Carole had given him into his wardrobe, but he has been presented with Information, and his mind begins to churn out a Plan. It was not just any sale that Mrs. Warrington was abandoning her son for, no, goodness no, it is The Sale.

Once a year, each Macy's department store closes down for 'upgrades to customer care' for a full twenty four hours. Card carrying members of a certain caliber are allowed into the store on this day and everything is in stock and on sale. Everything. The only way to hear about the sale is if you know staff that have been selected to work that day and to hold one of the coveted cards. Thanks to Kurt's Aunt Mildred being married to a managing partner of the corporation, he has one such card in a fireproof lock box currently under his bed at Dalton. Up until this moment, he has never heard of one so close that he could actually go.

Blaine uses Kurt's momentary distraction to his advantage and kisses him. Kurt's brain short circuits, as usual, from the contact and he readily kisses back, one hand cupping Blaine's face and the other in the middle of his back, somehow trying to communicate _closer_ without having to break away to say it. For a while he forgets about the sale of a lifetime, utterly content with sliding his hand back around the back of Blaine's neck and running his fingers over the warm skin just under the collar of his shirt. For a while he forgets about the sale of a life time because Blaine is touching, holding, kissing like Kurt is about to float away.

"I had the idea," Blaine pants when he finally pulls back, "when my mom called, that I would come in here and pin you to your bed. Maybe do something a little _bad_," he bites gently at Kurt's jaw to punctuate the idea, "to show her that I can't be trusted to have an entire afternoon completely alone with my boyfriend without getting into some mischief. Not that she would know, of course, but I would." And then he is undoing the top few button's of Kurt's shirt, exposing his collarbone, and pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to the dark bruise he had sucked and nipped into Kurt's skin the night before.

"Blaine, oh my god, you have to stop, really. I - fuck that feels good - I mean I really. I have a," Kurt cuts off as Blaine's hands untuck his shirt and roam over his back. "Shit. No, Blaine, I have a dentist's appointment." Blaine raises his head to quirk an eyebrow in question.

"You didn't mention it before."

"My dad called last night. Remember I told you about Miss Pilsbury's husband being a dentist and giving us all free cleanings that one time? He want's me to come back in for a check up, free of charge," Kurt bites his lip at just the right moment to remind Blaine that not all of them have a well of family money spanning back generations that will never dry up. Blaine nods sheepishly and kisses him one last time before extracting his hands from inside of Kurt's clothing. For a brief moment, Kurt feels terrible about not telling the truth, but then he is reminded of the Sale and decides that a little white lie is justified every now and then to save somebody heart break. How would Blaine feel if he were to find out that both his mother and his boyfriend abandoned him for shopping? Somehow, Kurt didn't think he would quite understand.

"For the record, your breath smells great," Blaine grins and lets himself out into the hallway. Kurt runs his tongue over his front teeth for a moment before springing into action. He unearths the lock box and locates the card while typing an email on his phone to his aunt on his phone. He changes into looser fitting jeans and a soft yoga sweatshirt with a deep v-neck. It's not the most fabulous choice he could have made by far, but the quicker one can get in and out of the dressing room, the more ground they are able to cover.

Kurt makes the half hour drive to Columbus in 17 minutes. He normally yells at his dad for going even two over the speed limit, but Macys is in the equation now and all bets are off. Kurt even _speeds up_ when a light changes from green to yellow just to make it through the intersection. But it is completely worth it when he walks up to the severe looking woman standing near a side door, holds out his card, and is immediately let inside. The department store does not look any different but the silence makes it a completely new experience. There are only a handful of people in sight, diligently going about their own shopping with a steadfast focus that Kurt has only ever seen in himself.

He heads straight for , intent on finding the sweater that he has been waiting to come down in price for months. Despite his dad and Carole giving the savings they had been planning on using towards their honeymoon for tuition at Dalton, Kurt knows that he has never wanted for anything. But his dad uses the same brown paper bag for his lunch every day until it tears, and even then he usually tapes the hole shut. Frugality is in Kurt's blood and there are few things in the world that can compare to the exhilaration of finding a particularly good sale.

The sweater is a disappointment on sight. Kurt can tell immediately that it will hit him all wrong at the hips, not to mention the knit is far thicker than he first imagined and it's coming up on spring. He frowns, used to such good luck with J. Crew women's wear for his slim build but quickly moves on. Kenneth Cole has some lighter cardigans that could do. Except they turn out to be too dark, not a single pastel or jewel tone among the collection. Kurt groans in frustration. He only has so much time before his 'dentist appointment' is over and Blaine gets suspicious. Kurt wanders through the store's small McQueen section hoping to find something - pieces from the genius are usually reserved to birthday and Christmas presents. He tries a few things on, for the hell of it, but comes away disappointed. Nothing is within his budget, even with the sale prices.

"Excuse me?" Kurt turns at the woman's voice. She's beautiful in an effortless way - thin wire framed glasses perched on the bridge of her knows nose, dark hair in loose curls around her shoulders, warm and earnest smile - that Kurt wants to despise, because she is middle aged and looks better in her plain khaki trousers and royal blue sweater than he ever could, but he can't do it. She reminds him of his mother, the few memories he has of her, and Kurt finds himself responding before he can think.

"Um, yes?" He asks, voice thankfully steady.

"I don't mean to be too forward, but you seem like somebody who knows these things," the woman says. Kurt notices she is holding two messenger bags. He smiles, recognizing the leather one as the same one that Blaine has, minus all the horrendous wear and tear. "My son, he's gone through another book bag and asked me to send a new one before the strap gives out. He has this one right now," She holds up the leather one, "but the cloth one is lighter. You're about his age, which would you choose?"

"Stick with the leather one, it will last longer than the canvas," he replies, reaching out to touch the strap for a moment, smiling as he sees the frayed and worn one in his head. Blaine has been using the same bag for three years. "If he's worn through this one, he will certainly go through the other much faster."

"Thank you! I just wasn't sure," the woman smiles again and sets the canvas bag back down on the display. "Embossing leather takes less time then embroidering, anyway. I might even manage get this to Blaine by the end of the day." Kurt's head whips up so fast his neck cracks.

"Oh my god," He says, stunned. The woman looks at him, eyes wide and concerned.

"Is something the matter, dear?"

"You're Blaine's mom," Kurt manages, vocal cords straining to form the words without sounding like a dormouse.

"Are you a friend of his from school? Have we met before? I'm sorry I believe I remember…"

"No, we - I mean I'm -" Kurt stops and takes a shallow breath that comes back out as a shaky laugh. "Sorry. No we have not met yet, I'm Kurt Hummel." He holds his hand out numbly for her to shake. Mrs. Warrington lets out a decidedly girlish squeal and drops the messenger bag so that she can pull him into her arms.

"Oh it was you! I'm so glad!" She exclaims, pulling back and holding him at arm's length. "I'm sorry if I freaked you out in any way, coming up to you like that, but you looked so much like Blaine said that I was just sure - Well it turned out alright anyway!"

"You - what?" Kurt stammers, not following her train of thought.

"I saw you, a few minutes ago, and I just had to see if you were… well you!" She laughs. A few sale hunters have turned to gawk and Kurt blushes brightly. "Blaine refuses to let me invite you to lunch. I think he thinks I might scare you away."

"Wait, Mrs. Warrington, you know who I am?" Kurt asks.

"Diane, please call me Diane. And of course I know who you are! Blaine talks about you constantly. He refuses to accept my friend request on Facebook and you're unlisted, but of course you are, you poor dear, so I've had to imagine what my son's boyfriend looks like based only on his descriptions of you. I have to say, I thought your eyes would be more blue, the way he goes on about them."

"It's the uniform. The navy makes my eyes bluer," Kurt replies, looking down at the red of his sweatshirt. It is then he remembers the _sacrifice_ that he made in the name of shopping; the one that leaves a nice portion of the bruise on his shoulder visible to the mother of the boy who put it there. But she seems not to notice and continues on.

"What are you doing here? When I cancelled my lunch with Blaine he said he was going to spend the day with you," says Mrs. War - Diane as she replaces the leather messenger bag on the display as well now that the ruse has been exposed. They both know that Blaine will not give up on his ratty bag until it falls apart into scraps around his textbooks.

"He made the mistake of telling me about the Sale and I fibbed a little. This was the first one that has ever been close enough for me to go to," Kurt says a little wistfully,

"Well your secret is safe with me," Mrs. W - Diane says, her voice low and conspiratorial. Kurt raises an eyebrow.

"You're not going to tell him?"

"Of course not. I'm all aboard this Klaine train. I'm against anything that might derail it, not that Blaine would break up with you over a bit of shopping, but he would certainly sulk for a little while," Diane talks as Kurt awkwardly stares at her in amazement. When Blaine said that his dad still had a really hard time with him being gay but that his mother was cool with it, Kurt had no idea of the extent of Mrs. Warrington's support for her son.

"I'm really glad you're okay with me, you know, dating your son," he says to her, trying to convey his thanks for being there for Blaine. Kurt remembers the times when he was afraid his dad wouldn't accept him, how scared he was, and hates the thought of somebody he cares about feeling the same way. Diane must understand because she pulls him into another warm hug.

"Why don't you browse with me for a bit, tell me about yourself. If that bite on your neck is anything to go by, you're doing a right bit more than just dating him," Kurt claps a hand over the mark at her words and his cheeks flame bright red.

"We're taking things slow, really. Blaine can just be a little, um, enthusiastic."

"You'd think he was secretly a four year old, with all that energy that he hides under that blazer of his," Diane clucks.

"Oh I know! Just yesterday we were on a walk and he started to chase a squirrel-"

They wander through the department store for another hour and a half, far longer than Kurt should have stayed if he wanted to stick to his story about the dentist. He finds a bright blue cardigan that is exactly what he has been looking for as well as a shirt from Marc looked unexpectedly nice on him considering the color. Diane shares a story for each one that Kurt tells her - his stint on the football team, the trials getting slushies in the face for hilarious slices of Blaine's childhood- and before he even realizes it they're eating lunch in a little café a few blocks from the mall. He munches on his roast turkey Panini while Diane talks about her job as a PR agent and the time she met Elton John at a house party. They laugh about the way Blaine is oblivious to most of the world around him.

When Kurt gets back to Dalton and checks his phone, he laughed out loud at the text message in his inbox from Diane telling him to chew some mint gum. He forgot that not all adults are as technologically challenged as his dad. He digs in his bag for a moment to take Diane's advice and thinks that he has found the ultimate co-conspirator on the face of the planet.


	7. Thou Art To Me A Delicious Torment

**Warnings: ** mildly explicit masturbation**  
****Summary: ** When Kurt leaves Blaine for Macy's, the boy finds himself frustrated and with an entire free afternoon ahead of him.

Blaine closes and locks the door behind him, thunking his skull against the wood as he leans heavily against it. He had been such an idiot, going to Kurt out of the blue and unashamedly propositioning him like that! The furthest they've gotten after a bit of innocent straddling - well innocent in that it led to nothing - was two nights before that when he caught Kurt on his way back from the showers in nothing but sleep pants and a towel draped around his shoulders. Blaine pulled Kurt back down the hall to his room and practically worshiped his chest right then. He hadn't meant to leave a mark, but pulling back and seeing the already purpling skin had reminded Blaine how the first time he had seen Kurt, he had wanted to kiss him against the banister of the stairs till he stopped looking so damn innocent and perfect.

He had pushed those feelings away after hearing Kurt's story. Blaine had wanted to be a mentor, somebody that Kurt could depend on as he went through the full stages of accepting who he was. After his talk with Wes and David on New Years, when he decided to try to stop being a terrible whatever-they-had-been and actually open himself up to Kurt, those feelings had just… stayed where he had compartmentalized them. But now that he could officially say that he had Kurt, Blaine was remembering what it was like to desire him.

Blaine groans, remembering the way that Kurt's back, all shifting muscles and hot skin, had felt under his shirt. He had not expected Kurt to be in such amazing shape - so much so that he asked about it once, but Kurt had said something about breakfast cereal and ignored the comment. It wasn't fair for Kurt to be keeping all of that himself, it was downright _selfish_ of him to not share the gorgeous image he painted with Blaine more often. And god, what a fucking vision he was. Blaine usually disliked the use of the adjective beautiful for men, no matter how effeminate they looked or acted. But with Kurt there was simply not another word to fully encompass what he was. Striking, yes. Attractive, most definitely. But beautiful captured the sharpness of his jaw, the soft curve of his shoulders, the delicate lines of his eyelashes, the brilliant color of his clear blue eyes.

Well, fuck. Blaine sits down on his bed uncomfortably. Thinking of Kurt, like that - physically, instead of as his adorable boyfriend who laughs at Blaine's bad Star Trek jokes - has left him hard and utterly alone. He tries to calm down, taking deep breaths and thinking of the calm empty space his mom and her friends were always talking about when they came home from yoga. But out of the white mist he tries to imagine, walks Kurt, shirtless and with those sleep pants tied so incredibly low on his hips, that faint line of brown hair visible and leading down towards… better things.

Blaine has thought of little else but that trail for the forty-eight hours. He'd rubbed his fingers over it, marveling in the difference between Kurt's smooth skin and the coarse hair, but only momentarily before Kurt had keened in the nervous sort of way and Blaine thought it would be better to get to just keep kissing his boyfriend's neck than get pushed completely away because he was pushing too fast. And so now he can't stop thinking about what would have happened if he had been able to move lower and press his lips to the smooth patches of skin stretched over Kurt's hip bones. Maybe he would have pulled gently at Kurt's sleep pants until they slipped away and pooled on the floor.

Blaine's thought of those sort of things before, of course, imagined them when he's come away from a study session with Kurt that turned out to actually be a study session, as they always do. He is half mad more often than not, trying not to think about that during the day, in the middle of class, at dinner, whenever Kurt is even remotely in the vicinity. The skintight jeans Kurt is so fond of wearing on the weekends stretch and stick to everything and the bulge between his legs is absolutely included in that. Sometimes, Blaine wonders if Kurt is able to wear underwear of any sort with pants like that. Sometimes, Blaine wonders what it would be like if he were able to push Kurt back on his bed and just peel them off to find out.

Blaine has his own zipper and his hand down his pants before he even realizes that he's moved. He hisses at the contact, hypersensitive from having ignored his erection for too long while imagining things that were doing absolutely nothing to help the situation. He toes off his shoes and scrapes his feet along the carpet to get his socks off. His free hand pushes his jeans past his knees to the floor. Blaine stops, fingers flexing involuntarily around the base of his cock to give some very much needed pressure, and drags his boxer briefs down too after the moment of hesitation. Nobody will be coming to look for him till Kurt got back from the dentist in several hours. He sheds his shirt too, quickly so that he can wrap his hand around himself again. He gives a shuddering stroke up and back down, moaning as quietly as possible

It's dry and a little rough at first but it feels fucking great so he does it again, surprised to already find a bead of wetness at the head when he runs his thumb over it. Blaine fumbles in his bedside drawer for the bottle of cheap lube he bought with saved up spare change, terrified his parents would know what the five dollars and fifty seven cents on his debit card bill had been used for. It dribbles awkwardly down his wrist as he tries to pour it into his hand without actually pulling it away from his cock. The oil gets sort of everywhere and Blaine knows he's going to need to waste two fifty to wash the sheets. But he doesn't care, doesn't fucking care in the slightest because he can't stop the flow of pictures in his mind.

Those same skintight jeans that give him ideas of what he would like to do to Kurt give Blaine plenty of images of what it'll all look like as he actually does it. Kurt is most definitely bigger than him, longer at least. Blaine thinks he'd like to find out if Kurt flushes _all over_ as prettily as his cheeks do when he's given a compliment. He'd definitely, most assuredly like to find out. Because Blaine knows that when - when, not if - he drops to his knees to suck Kurt off, he won't be able to stop the endless string of __ that will fall from his lips before his mouth is too full for the praise to sound like anything other than hums and gurgles.

He speeds up his strokes, hips suttering up to meet his hand. Blaine presses his head back into his pillow, biting back a loud groan, and lets his mind just spiral down the paths he usually keeps blocked off. The angles of Kurt's long limbs splayed out across Blaine's sheets, the perfect curve his back would make as he arches off the bed, how his hair would stick to his forehead with sweat so that Blaine could push it gently out of the way as they lie together afterwards. The noises, god the noises that he knows Kurt will make, because nobody is more vocal in expressing pleasure over shopping or desert or a good song and there is no way that won't carry over to when Blaine presses his hands just everywhere. He hitches his leg up to change the angle and clenches his eyes shut.

Blaine can just believe that it's Kurt's slender fingers wrapped around his cock, pulling frantically and irregularly. He can barely feel the way that Kurt's chest felt against his, the warm heavy, reassuring resistance of each breath pushing against his own ribcage. Blaine imagines Kurt's hesitantly questing fingers as they silently ask for permission to move, to touch more, to touch everywhere - the innocent excitement that will shine in his eyes. He can feel everything coiling up inside at the image, at the thought of giving Kurt all of the firsts that he longs for, that he's going to be all of that for Kurt. Even if they are one of those couples that never make it past the first semester of college, Blaine will always hold that space in Kurt's heart.

The intense feeling builds in Blaine's chest and burns down his spine. He thinks it is probably love, in that moment, as he's doing something that will glean nothing but his own personal pleasure, and all he can think of is giving everything that he has to Kurt. Blaine comes then, at the realization, balls drawing up and tightening as he thrusts desperately one last time into his hand, warm and wet across his stomach and fingers. He slumps into the mattress, utterly unable to move. His muscles are contracting in tiny, spasmodic shivers all over with the last waves of his orgasm.

He'll get up and shower, later. He'll strip his bed of the sheets and smuggle them down to the laundry room, in a while. Then he'll start planning the absolutely cheesiest date to take Kurt on in a few weeks - when he is sure he's not the only one between them who has placed The Word into the equation - so that he can kiss his boyfriend tell him how he makes him feel when he laughs and smiles and brushes imaginary lint off Blaine's lapel, just to touch him for a moment. But right now, he's going to just clean himself up with the already soiled sheets. Right now he's going to close his eyes and nap. But he's not going to dream of holding Kurt's hand at his college graduation. And he is really, really not going to dream of a future of 2.5 children with crystalline blue eyes riding their bikes around a cul-de-sac. Because that would just be getting ahead of himself.


	8. Because Kurt Always Knows Best

**A/N: If you're here from a email update sent out today (12/25) go back to chapter 5, that is the actual update! **If not, keep reading =)

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Kurt sits down into his usual seat beside Blaine a little more forcefully than necessary. The only drinking fountain even remotely near the Warbler's practice room was out of service. Except he had not found this out until after he drained his water bottle in anticipation of being able to fill it with fresh water. Constant hydration was possibly the most important step in his skincare system, after his bi-weekly cucumber and avocado masks, of course.

"Blaine, can I have some of your water?" He asks, shaking his aluminum bottle to demonstrate it's pitiful emptiness. His boyfriend nodes before going back to the math assignment balanced in his lap that is most likely due by the end of office hours because he had forgotten to do it for class. Kurt rolls his eyes and fishes around in Blaine's backpack. He pours half of what was left into his water bottle and was about to return Blaine's to his bag when he realizes that the hearts he had drawn all over the label during economics that morning have gone missing.

"What happened to your water bottle from Econ?"

"Drank it all," Blaine replies shortly.

"Obviously. I didn't expect you to make a single bottle last all day. I mean, why do you have a different one?" Kurt holding the bottle in front of Blaine's face so that he focuses on it instead of algorithms.

"I told you, I drank it all. Had to get a new one," Blaine says, pushing him gently out of the way.

"Did you crush it?" Kurt asks, confused.

"Kurt, what are you talking about? I told you, I finished it and had to get another one from the vending machine," Blaine looks up at him with a half smile. He raises a hand to rub the back of Kurt's neck soothingly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Why didn't you just fill it up at the drinking fountain?"

"Good one!" Blaine chuckles, obviously thinking Kurt is joking. Kurt stares at him incredulously for a moment before he stops laughing and realizes that he isn't kidding. Blaine drops his hand in shock. "Tap water? Really? That's disgusting!"

"Buying all those plastic bottles is harmful to the environment, Blaine. I can't believe you're one of those people," Kurt shakes his head and takes a drink from his own _environmentally friendly _water bottle.

"Kurt Hummel, saving the world one water bottle at a time," Blaine laughs and kisses Kurt's temple. Kurt sputters indignantly because he is acting superior, thank you very much, and Blaine isn't supposed to do things like that when he is ignoring him. But then David is calling them all to order and the conversation has to drop.

A week later, Blaine comes back from his morning shower to an exquisitely wrapped gift on his desk that hadn't been there when he left. He laughs, wondering if Kurt thought he was being discrete by not putting his name on it. Who else at Dalton has both the skill and desire to spend that much time creating something that will only be destroyed? Blaine unwraps the box, careful to preserve the hand made ribbon bow, and bursts out laughing. It is the box to a filtering water pitcher. Inside of it are replacements for the filter system along side a red Buckeyes aluminum water bottle. He picks up the note stuck to the inside of the box.

_The pitcher is already full, chilled in your fridge. This way, you're still helping me save the world and you don't have to drink plain tap water._

Blaine rolls his eyes but carries the bottle over to his fridge and obediently fills it up. He takes a long drink and… it doesn't taste that bad, actually. Blaine doesn't know how, but it's more crisp, if water can be described as crisp. It doesn't leave that weird coating on his teeth that he always feels when he drinks tap water. He sighs in anticipation of the groveling he will have to do to get Kurt to stop looking so damn smug.

His feeling deepens when he goes for a drink at the end of second period and the water is still as cold as when he first poured it out instead of tepid at best like a plastic water bottle would have been. Not to mention that by now he would have finished more than half of the bottle and this one is still three quarters full. But really, he should have seen this coming. Despite Blaine's more _worldly _upbringing - with his family trips to pretty much every habitable continent and always having more than enough of what he asked for - Kurt always seems to know more than him when it comes to things like this.

"So what do you think?" Kurt asks when Blaine sits next to him at the start of fourth period econ.

"Even though it's filtered water and not tap, you were still right. Using this has been way better than getting three or four different bottles throughout the day," he admits, a sheepish grin on his face. "Plus I saved three dollars already, so I can buy you some of those cookies at lunch that you love."

"Are you trying to make me fat?" Kurt scoffs.

"Kurt, I don't think you could get fat if you tried with all that exercise that you do. I don't even do that much work when I'm getting ready for lacrosse season," Blaine slings his arm around Kurt's shoulder and pulls him close to press a kiss to the top of his head as he squawks indignantly about his hair.

"It's just a water filter, you don't have to ruin my hair over it!" Kurt exclaims, only half pulling away and running a gentle hand over his coif to repair any damage.

"How did you get it, anyway? I've been with you every time we're allowed off campus. You said your dad refuses to let you use the credit card for online shopping anymore after that last time you ordered fifteen scarves in ten minutes so…"

"I called your mother," Kurt replies, pulling out his notebook as Mr. Lawrence starts to speak.

"My mother?" Blaine repeats numbly.

"Yeah, she and Carole were already out for lunch so they picked up the things I asked for and she had them shipped here." Blaine stares at Kurt for a full five minutes, completely ignoring the lecture, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that not only did Kurt have his mother's _cell phone number_, but that she had driven two and a half hours from their house to Lima to have lunch with Kurt's step-mother. Meaning she drove past Dalton without even calling him.

"My mother?" Blaine asks again because he doesn't know what else to say.

"You'd think I called the President the way you're acting. Diane loves me, now take your notes before you fail and she makes us break up because you're too stupid to have a boyfriend like me," Kurt whispers, physically putting Blaine's pencil into his hand and opening his binder.

"You call my mother by her first name?" Blaine asks, only he doesn't realize until too late that his voice has raised above the usual talking covertly in class level and now everybody is staring at him. Kurt flushes red and looks straight ahead, pretending not to know him.

"There is a lot you apparently don't know about me, Blaine Warrington."


	9. UPDATE ALERT POST

**CHAPTER UPDATE ALERT POST!**

I'm sticking this at the very end so that it is the default for where all the updates lead, at least until I'm sure I've gotten all of my 'base' built so that I can move forward chronologically.

**THE NEWEST CHAPTER IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 7 "THOU ART TO ME A DELICIOUS TORMENT" IT IS OF A MORE MATURE NATURE (READ: SMUT)**


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